


For the Cameras

by flyingblackhawk



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coulvary - Freeform, F/M, Flashback, Philinda - Freeform, Philinda mission, back when everything was good and pure, posing as a married couple, pre-HYDRA SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:46:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingblackhawk/pseuds/flyingblackhawk
Summary: The origins of the banter from 4x14 - What happened on that mission? Was Phil really as bad at playing a husband as Melinda remembers? And why the hell was he trying to take off her bra?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymously requested on Tumblr (flyingblackhawk.tumblr.com)

“You ready?”

  
Phil chuckles. “I know you don’t _mean_ that to sound condescending, but-”

  
“No, I definitely meant it to sound condescending.”

  
Phil adjusts his earpiece. “Is that Operations speaking, or just you?”

  
Melinda grins. “Bit of column A, bit of column B.”

  
He opens the door, and she sweeps out ahead of him. He allows himself one tiny eye-roll, and then follows her to the car.

  
They’re relaxing, these missions. They don’t have to worry about kidnapping someone, or fending off a squad of predictably dressed villains wearing sunglasses at night and spouting threatening cliches. They just have to bug a few hotel rooms, and bribe a few staff. Nothing unseemly. Melinda is already bored, Phil can tell, but it’s probably good for her to spend some time not cracking skulls.

  
When he pulls up at the hotel, he takes a breath, and then gets out of the car, leaving it running. He pays a valet, and then takes Melinda’s arm as the bellboy takes their suitcases.

  
“Welcome,” the woman behind the desk greets. “Are you checking in today?”

  
“We sure are,” Melinda gushes. “Honey, do you have the itinerary? I think my copy is in my suitcase.”

  
“Got it somewhere,” Phil says, shooting the woman an apologetic look and ducking down to open his backpack. He pulls out the papers after a few moments of rifling, and passes them over, nudging the computer as he does. The woman smiles, ignorant of the small device now attached to her monitor, which will connect the hotel’s system straight to SHIELD.

  
Melinda squeezes his arm, and leans her head on his shoulder briefly. Phil smiles, and wraps an arm around her waist.

  
“Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson,” the woman smiles. “Here are your- oh. Hang on one moment.”

  
She glances down at the screen, and then up at them again. Melinda’s grip on Phil’s arm tightens ever so slightly, and he resists the urge to touch the gun secreted in his waistband.

  
“Sorry,” the woman says, hesitantly. “It… oh, it looks like the system has automatically upgraded you. One moment.”

  
She ducks away and picks up a nearby phone. Phil turns to Melinda.

  
“She’s just a desk clerk,” she murmurs. “It’s probably nothing.”

  
“Nothing is nothing,” Phil whispers.

  
“Thanks, Communications,” she groans. He clamps down on the urge to elbow her.

  
“Sorry about the wait, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson,” the woman says, returning to them. “You’ve been upgraded to an executive room with a lovely view.”

  
“Oh, wonderful,” Melinda beams. “Honey, isn’t that amazing?”

  
“Fantastic,” Phil grins. “Thank you so much… uh… Tina, thank you, Tina.”

  
Tina smiles, and hands them their keys. Phil examines his, and once they’re in the elevator, he relaxes slightly.

  
“Don’t drop character,” Melinda whispers. He raises an eyebrow, and her eyes flicker upward. He doesn’t have to look to know there’s a camera watching them, so he wraps an arm around her shoulder.

  
They reach their room, and for a moment Phil can forget he’s on a mission and just be impressed. The executive room is huge, and they have a gorgeous balcony that overlooks the beach. But there’s something about it, a feeling Phil can’t quite shake off. He’s standing on the balcony when Melinda comes and stands next to him, winding an arm around his waist.

  
“Honey,” she says, quietly, through clenched teeth. “Let’s go out for dinner. Somewhere nice.”

  
He can hear a tone of faint urgency in her voice. She must have discovered something about the room that she can’t say. Which means it’s bugged. Phil almost groans, but manages a smile, and goes back into the room to change his shirt. Melinda changes into a dress, and they leave the room. Phil feels unusually thankful that they can fit all the bugging gear from SHIELD into a handbag that May can carry out of the hotel.

  
It’s only once they step out of the taxi and into a crowded, loud little restaurant that he feels himself relax again.

  
“What did you see?” he asks.

  
“Definitely cameras,” she sighs. “Probably sound as well, if they’re not stupid.”

  
“Damn it,” he groans. “Can we disappear?”

  
“It’s delicate,” she replies. “I’m in touch with Fury and the team, but because it’s international relations they don’t want us giving anything away.”

  
Her phone buzzes, and she looks through the message.

  
“Fuck,” she sighs. “Okay. We definitely can’t disappear. Someone knows that SHIELD might have a presence in the hotel. If we leave, they’ll know who it was, and go everywhere we went, destroy the bugs and this will all have been for nothing when the delegation arrives next week.”

  
“So we stick with it,” he says. “We give a convincing performance, do our job, and we’re out of here in the morning, like our itinerary says.”

  
“They upgraded us already,” she protests. “Surely they suspect.”

  
“Maybe they’re just upgrading anyone who’s a potential suspect,” he offers. “Maybe they don’t know. They’ve got our room bugged, who’s to say the other rooms around us aren’t bugged too? Maybe they had a head start on us.”

  
Melinda seems to realise that they only have one option, and she sighs.

  
“Come on,” Phil laughs. “Surely they taught you acting at Operations.”

  
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she says, arching an eyebrow.

  
“What, me?”

  
“Yes, you.”

  
“Melinda,” he protests. “I’m more than capable of this.”

  
“You say that now,” she says, “but they have cameras in our room, Phil. Cameras that are going to be on us all night.”

  
Phil almost bites his tongue. “Oh.”

  
“So if we stay, we have to commit. And I mean really commit.”

  
“You mean-”

  
“Yes.”

  
He feels the blood rushing to his cheeks before he can stop it.

  
“See, this is what I’m worried about,” she sighs. “You’re blushing just at the idea of having sex.”

  
“I’ll be fine.”

  
She squeezes his hand. “Just live the persona, Phil. We’re married. Don’t even think about anything else. Except bugging the bar, that’s what we’re doing when we get back.”

  
Dinner is quiet, and as they are driven back to the hotel, Melinda shuffles in close, and gives a soft giggle.

  
“God, honey,” she sighs. “I think that wine got to me a bit.”

  
“Me too,” he murmurs. The taxi pulls up, and he follows her out and into the lobby. They head straight for the bar, Phil with his arm around Melinda’s shoulders and Melinda with hers wrapped around his waist.

  
“Do you want more wine, darling?” Phil asks, handing her a menu. “Or perhaps a cocktail?”

  
“I’ll have a mojito,” she says to the bartender, “and he’ll have an espresso martini.”

  
He’s about to protest the order she’s made for him, but then he realises by the bartender’s exasperated look that it’s going to take a good few minutes to make the order, which gives them time to plant a little something under the bar. Melinda grabs something from her bag, and Phil makes sure no one is watching them as she subtly presses it under the bar.

  
The bartender brings their drinks, and they take them away to a table, picked out beforehand, which they also bug. By the time their drinks are done and they’re on their way out, the bar is covered, and Melinda feels her phone buzz in her pocket, letting her know that SHIELD is watching, as well as whoever else.

They get conveniently lost on their way to their room, and manage to plant a couple of bugs in the conference rooms before a friendly bellhop guides them back to the elevators, where they drunkenly thank him and head to the rooftop.

  
“Beautiful view,” Melinda murmurs, as Phil places their bugs. He takes her hand.

  
“Shall we head back to the room?” he asks, pulling her close. He doesn’t even know if there are cameras up here.

  
“Let’s,” she smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. They take the elevator back to their floor, and walk to their room. Phil grabs his keys.

  
“Well,” Phil murmurs, as he opens the door. “If we’re going to sell it-”

  
He doesn’t get time to finish what he’s saying, because Melinda has him pinned against the wall. He falls into the kiss way too easily as the door closes behind them, and he pushes them off the wall, stumbling over to the bed, still kissing her as they kick their shoes off. His heart is pounding, and all he needs to concentrate on is making sure this doesn’t look like it’s the first time. They don’t even know if anyone’s watching, but they have to do this, just in case. Phil isn’t bothered. He’s pretty much forgotten he’s a SHIELD agent at this point.

  
Melinda sweeps her hair out of her eyes, and rolls onto her back, pulling him on top of her. She’s not saying much, and Phil follows suit. The less they say, the less pretending they have to do. He leans down and kisses her, slowly moving from her lips to her neck. She gives a tiny gasp, and suddenly he’s not pretending anymore, and he knows she’ll be able to feel it, pressed together as they are. It’s hot, and it’s heavy, and Phil so desperately wants this to keep happening, he doesn’t care who’s watching.

  
She pushes him back, and for a moment he thinks she’s stopping this, and he almost panics- but she’s just unbuttoning his shirt, and sliding it off his shoulders. He closes his eyes at her touch, and presses in to kiss her neck again. Her fingers are trailing up and down his spine, and he feels shivers follow the touch wherever it goes. His lips are on her collarbone, but her dress is in the way. She seems to know, instinctively, that it needs to go, and she shimmies out of it quicker than he can formulate the words to ask her to do it. Then he’s met with the sight of her in her underwear, and he’s seen it before, sure, on missions, changing after training, but this is different.

  
Her phone buzzes, and she glances over at it. He stops.

  
“Is it-”

  
“Just an update,” she whispers. “Hang on. Just…”

  
She grabs the covers, and pulls them over the two of them.

  
“Lie still,” she whispers. He is confused, and his mind is foggy, so he does what he’s told. After what feels like a minute, she pushes the covers back down and drags him back towards her. He doesn’t argue, just follows.

  
Her hands are guiding his to- what does she want? He feels her set his hands on her bra strap, and he lets his fingertips follow the fabric as she arches her back. He pauses, just letting his fingers slide over her warm skin.

  
“You need some help, honey?” she murmurs, and the illusion is almost broken.

  
“Patience,” he whispers, kissing her jaw as his fingers work gently, running away from her bra and down her spine. He feels a rush of pride when her eyes flutter shut, and she lets a soft moan escape her lips.

  
After a few minutes of teasing, he unsnaps her bra and tosses it aside. He isn’t even thinking about the mission anymore as his lips close around her nipple, and his hand slides down over her stomach. She pushes him back abruptly, and for the second time he thinks he’s gone too far.

  
“Take off your pants,” she demands, slightly out of breath. He scrambles to comply, sensing he’s dragged it on too long for her liking.

  
“Come on,” she whispers. “Faster.”

  
There is a whirl of movement and she pulls him into bed. They’re naked, he suddenly realises. Naked in bed together. Him and Melinda May. It’s enough to make him freeze. Melinda wraps her arms around his neck, and brings her lips to his ear.

  
“Phil,” she breathes. His real name is enough to get him going again, and he kisses her, wondering what she wants, whether she actually-

  
“Please,” she whines, and he no longer cares if she’s acting. She presses a foil packet into his hand- wait, where did she even get that? How many possible outcomes has she planned for? He casts it out of his mind and in a moment he’s between her legs, curling his hips forward, and she’s letting out a quiet, breathy moan that zings right through his nerves and into his brain, flooding it with arousal.   
“I love you,” he whispers, as he starts to move.

  
“I love you too,” she replies. He pretends it’s real, and buries his face in her neck so he doesn’t have to see her looking at him so lovingly, because it’s going to kill him when he wakes up in the morning. Melinda is making soft noises that are driving him crazy, and he keeps on moving against her, and it feels better than he could ever have imagined - he feels loved, wanted, like he’s driving her as crazy as he feels.

  
She shudders underneath him, and either she’s an excellent fake or he’s just made Melinda come, either of which is enough to set off his own orgasm. She strokes the nape of his neck, and he slumps down on the pillow beside her. Soft lips touch his own, and she pulls him out of bed. He stumbles after her into the bathroom, and follows her into the shower.

  
“I love you,” she murmurs, running her hands through his wet hair. Do they even have cameras in here? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if she knows. All he knows is that he wants to stay under the hot water forever, holding her against him.

  
Hours later, he is awoken by someone shaking his shoulder.

  
“Sweetie,” May’s voice calls. “Come on, get up. We have to make our flight.”

  
He rolls out of bed, glancing around the room and then at Melinda, who nods imperceptibly. Still acting, then.

  
He rolls out of bed and gets dressed, makes a show of packing everything and then kisses her before they leave the room and head down for early checkout. The woman at the desk simpers over them, and as they leave, Phil’s phone buzzes. SHIELD have eyes all through the hotel, and all the bugs are in full operation for the politicians they hope to catch out next week. A job well done. Phil couldn’t care less.

  
At the airport, they’re still travelling as a married couple, but no one is watching them anymore.

  
“Got a message,” she tells him, over coffee. “Doesn’t look like anyone caught on that it was us bugging the place, and none of the cameras have been found.”

  
“Good,” he mumbles.

  
“Phil. Phil?”

  
He jerks out of his reverie, and she smirks.

  
“I know I’m good,” she chuckles. “But try to keep yourself under control when reviewing those memories, okay?”

  
He manages a laugh, but he’s still only half listening.

  
When they get off their flight at the other end and a black SUV rolls up to get them, Phil feels the illusion slip away. Melinda goes back into agent mode, and though she’s still ribbing him, he is slowly coming to terms with the fact that the night before was just an exercise for her. And that’s okay, he can deal with that. He’s just going to need a little while.

  
“Phil?”

  
He shakes himself again. “Sorry.”

  
“What’s wrong with you? You look like you got slapped in the face.”

  
He shrugs. “Just tired, I guess.”

  
“I don’t know why,” their handler says, arching an eyebrow. “You had seven hours to sleep. The cameras were looping.”

  
Phil gapes at him, and then turns to Melinda, who doesn’t look nearly as shocked as she should. She glances at him, and the corner of her mouth twitches. Phil feels the realisation hit him.

  
“The text,” he mumbles. “When you made me lie still.”

  
“Message from HQ telling us they could loop the feed,” she murmurs. “So if anyone looked into the room, all they’d see was us sleeping.”

  
“You-”

  
“Yep.”

  
He gazes at her, completely stunned. She looks down at the floor, and he could swear he sees a faint blush on her cheeks. So no one knows. No one saw what they did. She knew they didn’t have to keep acting, and she did it anyway. She tricked him. He honestly doesn’t have it in him to be angry at her, because that means….

  
She looks at him, and winks. He almost faints.

  
“You guys ready to debrief?” their handler asks, as the SUV takes a turn towards HQ.

  
“We've had practice,” Melinda answers. Phil just blushes, and stares resolutely out the window, wondering what the hell he’s supposed to do now.


End file.
